Do Not Ask Me To Stay
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Each morning's a test of my will,
though I'm awake, I lie quite still.
And gaze out past my window sill,
a quick glimpse before my first pill.
Pain resumes, for sleep can but stall
its slow, excruciating crawl.
But half-forgotten dreams enthrall,
and I strain my mind to recall.
I count days like rosary beads,
living a life ill health impedes.
And my room's as small as my needs,
a sterile box where life recedes.
When a blue sky turns black as coal,
my dreams slowly reclaim control.
And in sleep, I bequeath my soul
to God, ready to pay my toll.
I plead with Him day after day,
please, Lord, do not ask me to stay.
And though it's not for me to say,
I pray that He'll see it my way.
(Rhyme)
May 16, 2018
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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